


Questions and Answers

by agent85



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coda Challenge @The FitzSimmons Network, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post 4x11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 11:53:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9489914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: In the aftermath of Radcliffe's actions, Jemma and Fitz lie awake trying to process everything that's happened to them.Jemma knows that Fitz is asking himself how he got in this mess, but Jemma's questions are on another matter entirely.





	

"Do you think you ever would have told me?"

They've been staring at the ceiling for who knows how long, but when she breaks the silence, she sees him turn his head towards her.

"Jemma, I already said that I _wanted_ to—"

"No," she corrects, "not Radcliffe."

She feels stupid for not anticipating that response—Radcliffe, after all, was the reason for the pensive staring—but her thoughts of Radcliffe lead to thoughts of betrayal, and thoughts of betrayal lead to . . .

"Ward," she clarifies, "if he hadn't almost killed us, do you think you ever would have told me?" She swallows, and she knows she's lying in bed next to him, in the bed they share in the room they share, but she still feels shy. She reaches out her hand so that her pinky finger grazes his. "How you felt?"

He doesn't exactly groan. It's something between that and the clearing of the throat, a guttural sound that means he's taking it seriously. The moment stretches between them, and she wonders why he's not taking her hand, not wrapping himself around her. She's so needy sometimes, and he knows it. Sometimes he knows it before she does. But this time, he laces his fingers together and puts them under his head, still thinking. It doesn't really create a chasm between them, so why does it feel that way? The edge of his elbow hovers over her to testify of the fact that he's still right here, that he still loves her. Still, she wants to grab him by his shirt and never let him go.  

"I don't know," he says with a sigh. His arms come down with a flop, one hand overlapping with hers. His fingers curl into the space between her fingers and thumb. "I'm sure I would have, eventually. If I thought you wanted to hear it."

She flips her hand over so she can fill the gaps between his fingers, remembering the vision Daisy once had, of her and Fitz doing this very thing, and how she'd spent a whole day waiting for it to happen. It should be a casual part of their life by now, and sometimes it is, but this feels like a momentous occasion. This is the moment where, after they were betrayed by their friend, they held each other tight.

"Would you have wanted to hear it?"

This is the real question, the one she's been asking herself for the last ten minutes at least. If he hadn't told her when he thought it was the end, if he hadn't opened that can of worms, would they be here now? Or would it have taken them another ten years, until she mastered those sly looks that May always reserves for Coulson?

How long would it have taken her if she'd had to do it on her own?

But she knows he's waiting for a response; she planted a seed in his heart, and she needs to tend to it. She would tell him the truth if she knew what it was.

"You can always talk to me," she says, knowing he'll recognize it as a non-answer, but hoping he'll listen, anyway. "Whether I want to hear it or not."

He swipes his thumb back and forth over her skin, and she knows he's stalling. He's taking her up on her offer, and she's not sure if she's ready.

"Do you remember our first year at SciOps? When you told me there was no room for my personal life in the lab?"

She pinches her eyes shut, remembering all too well. They'd become a duo almost instantly, and they'd gone from the Academy to SciOps so fast that it seemed like . . . But she made him a promise. Now she'll keep it.

"I was scared," she admits, her free hand covering her face. "I heard people talking about us. I thought if we kept it professional—"

"They'd stop gossiping?"

She frowns, watching their entwined hands like they're about to bloom. "No, so that we wouldn't—that _they_ wouldn't—that we could still work together. I'd never met a mind like yours, Fitz." She rolls on her side to face him. "I still haven't. I didn't want to lose you."

She waits for the sparkle come into his eyes, because she knows this is exactly what he wants to hear. It's also the truest thing she's ever said to him. The sparkle comes with a smile that could heal any wound.

They sit there for a moment, watching each other instead of the ceiling. He's watching their hands, and she's watching him, noting the rise and fall of his chest and the flutter of his eyelids.

"Do you think that's why?"

He looks up at her, almost startled. "Hmm?"

"Do you think that's why it took us so long?" She cocks her head, needing to see him at a different angle before she can figure him out. "To get together? Was it my fault?"

His first reaction is the knee-jerk response of the loyal friend he's always been, but she sees the doubt creep in when he has time to actually think about it. He looks back up at the ceiling.

"Might have slowed us down a bit," he admits, "might have seemed like proof that you wouldn't . . ." His whole body shifts when he sighs. "To me, it was like . . . like I was lucky just to be your friend. More seemed . . ."

"Impossible," she supplies.

"Not really," he says, pressing his lips together, "more like, asking too much. Like being ungrateful, and foolish." He closes his eyes and she lets him think, lets him process this stray train of thought she's put him on. She closes her eyes and opens them to find him staring back at her. "I would have told you, Jemma," he says. "The way I felt— _feel_ . . . it's too big to hold back."

She nods, remembering the moment she watched Bobbi on a stretcher and was so filled with love for him that she had no choice but to cough the truth out. If Ward hand't tortured Bobbi in the first place, would she have—how long would it have taken her to figure it out?

The old feeling floods into her again, part guilt, part shame for her own stupidity, part sorrow for all the moments she missed. If he hadn't told her because of Ward, she might have had time to think it through. If she hadn't told him because of Ward, he might have had a chance to respond.

Or, they might have spent year after year with her scolding words ringing in his head, with a fundamental misunderstanding of how much they wanted to be with each other. Maybe, in some alternate future, a middle-aged Jemma is looking back on her life and wishing she'd been as bold as this Jemma was. Maybe the Jemma who lies next to her love right now is the envy of a thousand Jemmas she could have been. It should be enough to be here, to have him now, and it is. Except, she needs to push herself up and wait for him to clear her landing on his chest, except she has to feel his heartbeat against her ear. Except, she has to feel him drop a kiss into her hair.

It may have taken two betrayals for them to tell the truth to each other, but this last one finds them hand in hand. They are together now, and this time she can be there to wipe his tears away. It matters more than Jemma can say, though she's never been able to say much. 

"I'm with you, Fitz," she whispers into his chest, "I always will be."

That's the best she can do, really. That's the only balm she has to offer. His new brother and father may have used him and left, but his oldest and best friend never would. She'll be the support he needs until he's healed enough to stand on his own.

His arms draw around her, wrapping them together as one.

"I know," he says, and he means it.

"There are a thousand ways it could have gone," she says, because if she's been thinking of alternate scenarios, he has, too. Except, he's not wondering what Coulson would have said if they'd asked to share a bunk on the Bus. He's going back to that club in Romania, to that hidden room where Radcliffe almost tricked her into cutting out his eye. Fitz is replaying it all, every moment, and he's trying to find the point where he could have saved him.

Only Jemma knows that Fitz has already done more than anyone ever could.

"I know," he says again. This time, he chokes on the words. She knows that she has to pull him out of his head and into hers.

"But it's worth it, isn't it?" She pushes herself up to look into his eyes. "To have each other?" She waits for a response, and when he just stares back at her, words start falling out. "I mean, maybe they _would_ have broken us up if we got too close. Maybe we had to wait until we found ourselves in the right environment. Where they'd let us be together, like this." She settles back on his chest, too overwhelmed by the look in his eyes. "What if we went back in time and stopped Ward from joining the team, or let Radcliffe go to prison? Would we be here right now?"

He's going to ask her what Radcliffe's freedom has to do with anything, but she hopes she won't have to tell him that they've been in the same room more this past week than they have in the last few months. Would it have happened without Aida? Or would her crusade for the power to keep them together be the reason they were ripped apart? 

She waits for him to get it, or to ask for some kind of clarification. Maybe he'll tell her that it still hurts. Maybe he'll tell her that getting to the point where they share everything with her isn't worth the pain that drove them there.

Instead, he says, "I love you."

She closes her eyes, letting the words vibrate off the walls.

"I love you, too," she says, "more than anything."

More than the meetings he wasn't cleared to attend, more than the projects he didn't include her on, more than some mad scientist loves himself. She loved him enough to insist that he go with her on journey into mystery, loved him enough to stay alive through months on a desert planet, loves him enough to put all their mistakes behind them. They've been so busy protecting their friends that they haven't had a chance to learn how to truly be together.

"Thank you," he says, playing with the ends of her hair.

"For what?"

"For listening about my Aida theory. For helping me prove it. For staying beside me."

She smiles, tracing a lazy pattern on his chest.

"Always."

It comes out casually, but then, she's still a coward sometimes. She's still afraid to tell him that she's never been strong enough to let him go. That she's already made peace with the fact that she never will. She leaves it to him to read between the lines, to read her thoughts the way everyone expects him to. He has to know that she still thinks of their cottage in Perthshire, that she still wants to stand by him every day she has left. She's chastised him for keeping secrets, but this is the one she may never be brave enough to tell. 

But he kisses the crown on her head once, twice, three times. But he hugs her so tight that she swears they'll fuse into one being. 

But he whispers something into her ear.

"Always."

And that's when she knows, not just that he understands, but that he feels the same way. Which, really, was the answer she was looking for all along.

And by the way she feels him relax against her, his heartbeat slowing with his breaths, she knows she's supplied the answers to questions of his own.

She lets the silence grow back, bringing with it a peace they haven't felt in far too long. It wraps around Fitz, who is wrapped around her, and together they are enveloped in something so calming and restful that it seems like they will find sleep after all.

She feels her muscles grow heavy, feels them finally let go for the night. She will, too. Jemma closes her eyes and waits for sleep to come, knowing they will face the morning together.

**Author's Note:**

> This is officially my 100th fic for the FitzSimmons fandom! Thank you so much for your support and friendship on this journey into mystery!
> 
> I regularly post sneak peeks and general ramblings about my writing on [my tumblr](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/tagged/Writings%20of%20Agent%2085).


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